


We Need to Talk

by LeeBlack



Series: Wolves at Your Door [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:02:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24506614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeBlack/pseuds/LeeBlack
Summary: In which Stiles's late night trip to Walmart is interrupted, not once, but twice - and begins to set things into motion
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Wolves at Your Door [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720972
Comments: 60
Kudos: 1038





	1. Chapter 1

“Stiles!”

The teenager startled violently, dropping his armful of Reese’s into his cart. “ _Fuck_ , what is it with werewolves and sneaking up on people?” he asked.

Derek scowled at him. “You’re ridiculously unaware of your surroundings.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the older man, debating the merits of starting a pissing match with him in the middle of Walmart. The slight baring of Derek’s teeth when he didn’t Immediately respond had his decision made. “It’s three thirty in the morning and I’m in _Walmart_ , asshole,” he said. “If I need to be on edge in the candy aisle, we’re all fucked. And I really don’t want to go out with ‘’Party in the USA’ being the last song I ever hear, so I’d really like to _not_ have to fear for my life in Walmart.”

“You’re making yourself vulnerable, idiot,” Derek snapped, taking another step forward. No doubt doing his best to loom under the bright florescent lighting. “You’re a Pack-associated human. You can’t afford to be caught off guard.”

It wasn’t working as well as he probably hoped.

“Again, I am _in public_. Surrounded by _other_ humans,” Stiles snapped. He caught a glimpse of what looked like Derek’s claws coming unsheathed and shifted a bit to put his cart between himself and the werewolf. It wouldn’t do much if Derek actually tried anything, but it was something, at least. “If there really is some big bad out there that’s dumb enough to try and kill me while I’m in the candy aisle of Walmart, surrounded by cameras, and, again, to a soundtrack of Top 40, there are bigger issues at hand. Was there something you needed from me, other than to get your daily quota of scaring the shit out of innocent teenagers?”

Derek bit back what looked to be a snarl. “You’re going to talk to Alpha Blackwood tomorrow.”

“What?” Stiles asked, hoping his heartbeat didn’t do anything funky. Fortunately (unfortunately?) it was still racing from Derek’s initial appearance. “Why?”

“Because he needs to talk to you,” he bit out. “You need to be on your best behavior with him. Try to act moderately competent.”

Stiles glowered at him. “I’m capable of -”

“Stiles, I’ve met you before. _And_ I can hear your heartbeat, so don’t even try to pull of that lie.”

He snorted. Such faith the Alpha had in him. “Good pep talk. Thanks, sourwolf.” He noticed one of the Reese’s had gotten caught in the metal of the cart and made quick work of unhooking it and tossing it in with the rest of his haul. Absently, he wondered if Derek would notice Peter’s scent. He hadn’t been over to the man’s house that day, but he’d crashed on the couch for a few hours the afternoon prior.

Derek just scowled at him. “The Alpha’s decision determines whether or not you and your dad stay alive, Stiles. This is serious.”

Stiles stiffened, unable to stop the rage from flickering across his face. “Are you threatening my dad?”

“I’m telling you that you need to be careful with the Alpha,” Derek said brusquely. “I’m not allowed to be there for your conversation, so I can’t save your ass when you do something stupid.”

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, but didn’t say anything.

Derek let out a quiet growl.Not loud enough for anyone else to hear it, but it carried the sort of bass that Stiles felt in his bones. “ _Stiles_.”

The teenager rolled his eyes. “I get it, man. Best behavior. Like I’m meeting the werewolf version of the queen of England,” he said. “And now that you’ve got me all freaked out about the possibility that I might get my dad killed, I’d say we call it a night. You can go back to stalking teenagers and I can go back to what I’m doing.”

“And what’s that, buying out the entire stock of Reese’s?”

Stiles scowled over at Derek, only barely able to stop himself from baring his teeth at the older man. “It’s summer break, asshole. Until you showed up, I was planning on having a nice, relaxing night surrounded by junk food and Call of Duty and ignoring the fact that my dad’s working extra to account for the department shortages, so, you know, _thanks_ for that change in plans,” he snapped. He glanced over his shoulder, grabbing a bag of sour gummy worms off the shelf, and then a second. “Always good to be reminded that my dad’s life is in danger not just because he’s a cop, but because I’m running around with a bunch of wolves in a town that’s apparently on top of a doorway to chaos. Really lulls me to sleep when he’s working nights, too, the thought that I can go to sleep not knowing if he’s going to make it home or not. Because, you know, the risks of being a cop _and_ local supernatural bullshit increase the odds of my waking up an orphan.”

That shocked Derek silent. The blood drained from his face and he let out a sound that might have been a whimper. He took a small step back, swallowing thickly before opening his mouth to speak again. “Stiles-”

“No. Just save it,,” Stiles said sharply. “You said your piece. I’ll play polite little human. Now, fuck, just leave me alone, man. You’ve been helpful enough for one night.” He didn’t give Derek the chance to respond, shoving his cart down the aisle and around the corner.

Fortunately, Derek didn’t seem inclined to follow him.

Stiles stalked up and down the aisles in an angry haze, doing his best to calm down. He wasn’t that worried about talking to Deucalion again - the dude had been decent enough with him so far, even if he did have a habit of sneaking up on Stiles in public. He’d caught him twice more in TeaTomes and another time at Mel’s diner at the edge of town, and had been courteous all three times, never asking about the Pack, just offering casual conversation and answers if Stiles had questions about his relationship with Peter.

But then Derek, the bastard, had had to bring up his dad as part of his threats for Stiles to behave.

He’d gotten so lost in thought, stewing in his anger at Derek and his worry for his father, that he didn’t realize he was headed for a collision with another cart until he felt the impact.

He startled violently, almost tripping over his own feet before righting his cart. “Shit _, shit_ , I’m sorry,” he started, before falling abruptly silent when he saw who’s cart he’d run into.

In front of him was the tallest man he’d ever seen. He had to be close to seven feet, and the dude was _stacked_. More intimidating than the Men’s Health cover body and the tattoos looping around biceps that had to be the same size as Stiles’s head, though, was the irritated scowl on the man’s face.

“Oh god, please don’t kill me,” he said quietly, gripping his cart so tightly he thought he heard the metal creak. There was no way he’d be able to outrun the behemoth in front of him. “Pretty please.”

That pulled a grin out of the man. “Why would I kill you in such a public place?” he asked, the question punctuated by a set of fangs that were too sharp to be human. “There are so many other, more convenient crime scenes to create.”

Stiles froze. “Um.”

The man laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you, puppy. I know who you are.”

“You do?” Stiles asked hesitantly. He wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing.

“You’re Peter’s boy,” he said, holding out his hand. “Ennis DeWitt.” When Stiles hesitated, he grinned again. “I’m not going to bite you, kid.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the man, not breaking his gaze. “You’re not going to slice my arm open, are you?”

He shook his head. “That little trick only works with Alphas and blue eyes,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. It really is just a handshake. Claws fully sheathed, I promise.”

Stiles watched him for a moment before taking the hand. He did his best not to wince at the strength in the man’s grip before pulling his hand away. “Nice to meet you, I think.”

Ennis grinned. “It is indeed, puppy. Duke speaks highly of you.”

“Wait, what? Duke?”

“Alpha Blackwood. You didn’t think I was here just to drive him around, did you?”

“He doesn’t really mention you otherwise,” Stiles said. “He has said that you’re picky with his security.”

Ennis nodded. “He’s saved my life a number of times and keeps looking out for me. He’s got my loyalty, and I have no intention of betraying him. Stilinski, right?”

“Stiles,” he said faintly.

“Stiles, then.” Ennis nodded, looking down at Stiles’ cart and grinning. “Going for nutrition?”

He flushed red. He’d circled back to the candy aisle after Derek had cornered him and emptied all of the Reese’s out of spite - and that wasn’t counting the bags of chips or the beef jerky he’d added on top of that. “It’s summer break.”

“Hey, I’m not blaming you, kid. I’ve got my kind of equivalent in my cart,” he said with a flourish.

Stiles looked over at the cart. Four packs of short ribs, several packages of bacon, and what looked like a good ten pounds of beef jerky. “I guess, sure. And you’re in the ice cream aisle, why, exactly?”

“Duke likes Cherry Garcia.”

Stiles snorted. “Seriously?”

Ennis nodded. “I don’t get it either. I’m a rocky road kind of wolf,” he said. “Want some company for the aisle? I won’t keep you long.”

He hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. “Sure, okay,” he said, turning his cart around so he could walk with Ennis down the aisle. “Are you going to threaten me?”

“Nah,” Ennis said, opening the freezer door and grabbing three pints of Cherry Garcia. “I figure the douchebag in the leather jacket had that pretty much handled. Unless you want me to get less than friendly with you?” he asked. “I can play a pretty convincing bad guy if I need to.”

“I’m guessing the seven feet of muscle and tattoos play into that?” Stiles asked with a grin.

Ennis laughed. “Something like that.”

“Wait, hang on. You heard Derek?”

Ennis looked over at him. “Didn’t know it was Derek. He’s your Alpha, right, or are there two wolves with that name in your Pack?”

“Derek’s one of a kind,” Stiles muttered darkly.

He snorted. “No fucking kidding. Dude has no sense of subtlety.”

Stiles quirked an eyebrow at the man.

“Hey, I was more subtle than him. He didn’t know I was in the store, otherwise he’d have to be a shit Alpha to threaten you,” he said. He paused, looking at Stiles with an odd look on his face. “He do that often, threaten you like that?”

Stiles shrugged, not willing to put voice to either a defense of Derek or a denial of his treatment - neither of which he’d be able to do convincingly. Instead, he opted to stay vague. “He’s still adjusting to his promotion,” he said.

Ennis snorted again but didn’t say anything. He grabbed a few pints of rocky road and vanilla from the freezer before heading toward the end of the aisle.

Stiles followed him, glancing at the shelves. He caught a glimpse of black raspberry chocolate chip gelato on the back of the top shelf. “Hey stretch, grab me that purple ice cream, yeah?” he asked.

“Stretch?” Ennis asked, even as he did as requested.

“What, like you’ve never heard it before?”

“No, I just thought a little shit like you would be the type to go for the ironic ‘Tiny’,” he said. “You a fan of the fancy shit?”

Stiles grinned. “Nope. Peter is, and I’m hoping to bribe him.”

Ennis laughed. “If you’ve got to bribe him, he ain’t doing a great job at playing keeper,” he said. “What’s so special that it’s worth almost ten dollars for a pint?”

He paused for a moment. “Grimoire.”

“One in his library?”

“How do you know about his library?”

He shrugged. “Duke’s still sweet on Peter, even if he won’t admit it,” he said. “He’s talked a few times about Peter’s collection. He’s been building it most of his life, and he’s got a reputation.”

“For his left hand.”

Ennis nodded. “And his library. Back before he dropped off the map, he had enough of a reputation that Packs would reach out to him for help,” he said. “Mostly about how to handle threats like hunters and Fae and some of the other beasties that trespass in wolf territory.”

“Wait, what kinds of beasties?”

The taller man just grinned down at Stiles. “You really _are_ new, aren’t you? Duke mentioned fresh blood, but I wasn’t expecting virgin fresh.”

Stiles flinched back. “Fuck, why are all wolves so fucking _creepy_?” he asked.

Ennis laughed aloud, grabbing a bag of frozen chicken nuggets from the shelf. “Part of our charm,” he said. “Your Alpha told you that Duke’s going to be looking you up for a chat, right?”

“Something like that.”

He nodded. “Anywhere you want me to suggest?” he asked.

Stiles frowned slightly. “Is that allowed?” he asked. “I thought the investigation had to be more formal.”

Ennis shrugged. “Yes and no,” he said.

“What’s that mean?”

“It means he’s got to talk to you as part of the investigation to figure out where you stand,” he said. “And Duke’s going to be professional about it. He’ll ask you about what’s happened, how you’re treated, how you feel. If you trust your Alpha,” he said, shooting a look at Stiles. “And if you want him to buy that you do trust your Alpha, you’re gonna have to watch your heartbeat, puppy. I thought you were going to go into cardiac arrest while he was talking to you. If you really want to sell the whole ‘he’s just adjusting’ shtick, you should maybe try not to reek of fear while you’re pitching it.”

Stiles watched the man, not saying anything.

“’Sides, even though Duke’s a pro, he’s got a soft spot for Peter. And you, puppy,” he said. “He’s mentioned your potential a handful of times. He’s not going to go easy on you, because he’s got a job to do and he holds himself to high standards, but he’s not gonna be a dick about it.”

“That’s good,” Stiles said cautiously. He looked down at his cart, trying to think if he wanted to get anything else. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ennis nodded. “So, any place in mind? Your house, the bookshop, somewhere else?” he asked. “I’d suggest avoiding the diner.”

“Why?” Stiles asked. “What’s wrong with Mel’s?”

He shrugged. “Too close to the Preserve. Wouldn’t be a great place to talk if privacy was a concern,” he said. “There’s no real way to prevent eavesdroppers. That TeaTomes shop is pretty good. Only one customer entrance, and it’s got enough nooks and crannies that you can sequester yourself for a private conversation.”

Stiles hesitated for another brief moment. “My house would work. No one else should be there.”

Ennis nodded. “You want me to do the courteous thing and ask for your address, or you cool with me and Duke showing up like we already know?” he asked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m getting used to the creep factor, I guess. I’ll try and make the place presentable,” he said. “Is it gonna be both of you for the conversation? Derek said he couldn’t be there to play chaperone.”

“That’s part of the rules of the investigation,” he said. “To prevent any potential influence in your answers. I’m going to be in the area because I’m not leaving my Alpha unaccompanied in another Alpha’s territory.” He shrugged. “If you want me out of sight for the conversation, I can do that, but if you don’t mind me hanging out inside your house, I can wait there too.”

Stiles nodded. “Let me think about it,” he said. “Am I allowed to think about it?”

Ennis laughed. “You’re allowed to think about it, sure, and you don’t have to make your decision until you and Duke sit down to talk,” he said. “Won’t matter to me either way. I’m flexible.”

He just nodded again. “What time are you gonna show up?”

“Duke’s in charge of that part,” Ennis said. “I can guess it’s not going to be before noon, if that’s any consolation.” He shrugged. “Creatures of the night, we can be kind of useless in the morning.”

Stiles grinned. “I’ll keep coffee warm.”

“Much appreciated, puppy,” he said. He turned his cart toward another aisle.

“Hey, real quick,” Stiles said before they parted ways. “I know you said Deucalion’s still sweet on Peter.”

Ennis nodded. “When he came back home after running into you all at the witch’s shop, I almost expected him to invite Peter up to Lassen,” he said. “We’ve got stable territory and a strong Pack, but you get someone like Peter in your Pack, you make sure his talents aren’t going to waste, and that’s worth a fortune.” He looked over at Stiles, brow furrowing slightly. “What has you asking?”

“Well, I was going to ask how you felt about Peter, but I think you pretty much answered that already.”

He grinned. “I’ve only met him a handful of times - I was out at college for most of the time that Duke and Peter had their thing - but the few times I’ve met him, he’s always impressed me. I’m honest when I say I respect the man, and he truly is an asset to any Pack that puts him to good use.”

“But?”

“No buts, puppy. You snagged yourself one of the good wolves.” He barked out a laugh. “Well, _good_ being the relative term that it is.”

Stiles just stared at the man, not sure how exactly to respond to that.

Ennis met his gaze evenly, only looking away when a burst of static on the store radio had him flinching. “Anyway, I’ve got a few more things to grab for Duke, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Thanks, man.”

“Sure thing, puppy. It was good to meet you. In person, at least.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes slightly. “Creepy.”

Ennis just laughed and headed up the next aisle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stiles?” Peter asked, sounding a bit more awake. “Are you alright?”
> 
> “Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah. Fine. Shit, I woke you up.”
> 
> “It is just before dawn, pet. Most sensible creatures tend to be asleep.”
> 
> He huffed. “I thought werewolves were creatures of the night?” he asked.
> 
> Peter rumbled unhappily. “I am a man who appreciates the finer things in life, pet, and one of those things is a very comfortable, very luxurious, king-sized bed that I have no intention to neglect,” he said. “Are you certain you’re fine? Your heartbeat is a little higher than usual.”

Two and a half hours later, Stiles threw his XBox controller on the floor with an irritated huff. For all the games and snacks were supposed to occupy him, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from thinking back on what Derek had told him - which had then sent him into a spiral of concern for his father that had him heading upstairs to listen in on the police scanner to make sure that it was a quiet enough night on duty, before again returning to the video games in an attempt to distract himself.

After the fourth play-through of that particular cycle, he was fed up.

He looked around for his phone, rooting through his discarded sweatshirt, a half-empty bag of Doritos, several Reese’s wrappers, and the blanket he’d pulled off his bed.

No such luck.

Just as he began to panic about having lost his phone, he caught sight of it, tucked into his shoe.

He picked the phone up and checked the battery - he’d have to charge it before Deucalion came over later that day. Almost before he realized what he was doing, he found himself bringing up Peter’s contact and calling the older man.

Four rings into the call, he was answered with a barely coherent grunt.

Stiles froze, not sure what he’d planned on saying.

“Stiles?” Peter asked, sounding a bit more awake. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah. Fine. Shit, I woke you up.”

“It is just before dawn, pet. Most sensible creatures tend to be asleep.”

He huffed. “I thought werewolves were creatures of the night?” he asked.

Peter rumbled unhappily. “I am a man who appreciates the finer things in life, pet, and one of those things is a very comfortable, very luxurious, king-sized bed that I have no intention to neglect,” he said. “Are you certain you’re fine? Your heartbeat is a little higher than usual.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but found himself relaxing. “You know it’s creepy that you can hear that, yeah?”

That, as expected, went ignored. “Do you want me to come to you?”

“No,” he said. “No, I think I’m okay. Just, shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his head, trying to figure out the best way to phrase things. “You ever get the feeling that your head’s too small for all the thoughts you’re having? So you end up, like pacing around and not able to focus and freaking out over random shit?”

“I wasn’t quite able to pace around while I was in the coma, but being overwhelmed to the point of panic by my thoughts is unfortunately something I’m familiar with,” he said. “Are you having any trouble breathing?”

“No, I just can’t focus on shit.”

Peter hummed quietly. “Talk to me about the random shit that has you freaking out.”

“It’s nothing important.”

“Pet, you’ve woken me up at a truly hideous hour and you’re unsettled. Unless you’re willing to indulge in a session of phone sex, you can indulge my curiosity.”

Stiles flushed red, pulling the phone away from his ear to glare at it. “Seriously?”

He snorted. “Worth a shot,” he said. “What’s got you so wired?”

“I went to Walmart a couple hours ago.”

“A truly traumatic environment,” Peter commented.

Stiles laughed quietly, feeling himself start to relax a bit. “Derek found me there.”

Peter made an odd noise in the back of his throat. “Are you hurt? Did he lay a hand on you?”

“No contact, just a lot of glares and looming,” he said. “He told me Deucalion’s going to talk to me today. For the official talk.”

“It’s part of the rules of the investigation that the Alpha be notified when certain Pack members will be addressed. It’s largely a matter of courtesy, but there’s also a test for the Alpha in that.”

Stiles frowned slightly, tripping over his Xbox controller. He saved himself from face-planting on the ground, but ended up stepping on the controller in the process. “Aw, fuck.”

“What plastic just got crushed?”

“Xbox controller,” he said, crouching down to look at it. “It’s trashed. _Shit_.”

“I can buy you a new one, if you’d like.”

He paused for a moment, thinking the offer over. It would help him avoid any questions from his dad about why this one was broken. Still, it wasn’t the most pressing issue. “Why’s it a test for the Alpha?” he asked.

“Seeing what action the Alpha will take. The more competent Alphas will go to their Pack members and see if there are any questions they have. Other Alphas may not be so accommodating - or they might attempt to interfere and prevent the conversation from happening at all,” Peter said. “There’s one instance I’m familiar with where the Alpha in question ended up killing his wolves before they could be involved in the investigation. It sealed his fate and he was summarily executed, but the circumstances leading up to that were made public.”

“He was made an example?”

Peter hummed affirmatively. “If you’d like to hear the gory details, I’m willing to oblige, but it’s not a particularly pleasant conversation.”

Stiles shook his head, forgetting for a moment that Peter couldn’t see him. “Nah, I think I’ve had my share of gory details lately,” he said. “Derek said he wasn’t allowed to be there when Deucalion talks to me.”

“Yes. It’s important to get an honest response from the Pack. Having the Alpha there might cause some problems, if there are questions asked that an Alpha may not want answered,” Peter said. “You may find yourself faced with some questions like that.”

“And I have to answer them?”

“It will look suspicious if you don’t. The entire purpose of this investigation is to determine if our Pack presents the sort of risk of exposing the existence of the supernatural to the human world,” he said. He was silent for a moment. “Deucalion has been courteous enough with you and I that I’m feeling optimistic, though I’m certain Derek’s actions haven’t been entirely encouraging.”

Stiles frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Looming and glaring at a member of the Pack in a public place is both ridiculously obvious and borderline inappropriate,” Peter said. “He didn’t do anything else, did he?”

“I told you he didn’t make any contact,” he said.

“So he, what, skulked up to you, told you about your conversation, and left without any other flourishes?” he asked.

Stiles scowled, not sure how Peter would react to the threats Derek had made. “He made a few threats,” he said. “Nothing specific, but ratcheting up the pressure about the conversation. You know, if I fuck it up, then that basically means I’m going to get my dad killed by werewolves. That sort of helpful, motivating pressure.”

“Then it would seem I need to have a word or several with my dear sweet nephew,” Peter growled.

“Peter, c’mon, I can handle Derek.”

The werewolf let out another unhappy rumble. “I am entirely aware that you are _capable_ of handling my nephew, as you are a great many other things, pet. The fact remains that you should not _have_ to,” he said. “Setting aside the fact that you are a human member of the Pack, you have also given him no reason to distrust you, have you?”

Stiles shrugged. “I mean, we didn’t really start off on the greatest impressions. I accused him of murder,” he said. “So there may never have been any sort of trust at all.”

Peter was silent for a brief moment. “The fact remains that I will need to speak with my nephew about appropriate behavior,” he said. “Did anything else happen while you were at Walmart? Surely it wasn’t just Derek that has you so on edge?”

He hesitated for a moment, not sure how Peter would react to him having met Ennis. “I mean, he wasn’t the only werewolf skulking around the aisles,” he said. “But he was the only one who threatened me.”

“And what friendly neighborhood werewolf did you run into?”

“Ennis DeWitt.”

“ _What_.”

“No, it’s cool, he’s cool. I mean, for a measure of cool. Dude’s like eight feet tall and goddamn terrifying, but he likes rocky road ice cream and he called me puppy.”

Peter barked out a laugh. “He likes you, then.”

“I guess. He let me choose the spot for my conversation with Deucalion.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Gonna be my house, sometime later this afternoon.” He paused. “I’m guessing there’s another rule that says you’re not allowed to sit in on this conversation?”

“It would be highly improper,” Peter said. “Especially since Deucalion is aware of the nature of our relationship. And if Ennis is calling you puppy, he knows as well.”

“He said he wasn’t around a lot when you and Deucalion had your thing going on. Is he gonna call you puppy?” Stiles asked, feeling his face heat up as he asked the question.

Peter laughed quietly. “Not unless something’s changed. I was always just Hale to him. You certainly seem to have a way of worming your way into the good graces of competent wolves, pet.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m good. Just, shit, just a little wired, I guess,” he said.

“How much Mountain Dew have you had?”

Stiles looked over his shoulder at the mostly empty liter bottle he’d propped up against the arm of the couch. “Um, I’m gonna need to plead the fifth.”

He laughed again. “Switch to water, pet. And brush your teeth before they start growing mold,” he said. “Honestly, I don’t know how you stomach that shit. It reeks like battery acid.”

“Gee, thanks, Peter. Way to make a guy feel pretty.”

“Oh, pet, if you want me to make you feel pretty, I am happy to lavish you with all the affection you can handle,” he said, voice gone suddenly sultry. “I will compliment every pore of your skin, every hair on your body, and more, but as you are so keen to tell me, that level of attention to detail is creepy.”

Stiles flushed bright red, glaring down at his feet. “It was a joke, man. Way to dial it up to eleven.”

Peter just chuckled. “I’m happy to dial it back down to a more respectable seven if you let me get some sleep. I’ll pull it back to a five if you never ingest that hideous yellow soda anywhere in my vicinity again,” he said. “And if you give me your word you’re alright.”

“I am,” he said quietly. “Talking to you helped. Helps. Thanks.”

“Of course, pet,” Peter said. “Switch to water. And maybe take a break from the video games? Try to get some sleep before Deucalion comes over. You won’t be doing anyone any good if you work yourself into a panic over what amounts to a conversation.”

Stiles nodded. “I can do that. I’m sure I can find a Transformers marathon to watch.”

Peter grumbled. “If you must,” he said. “Try to enjoy whatever ridiculous shit you end up watching. I am going back to my beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, you need all the help you can get in that department.”

Peter growled. “Impertinence, pet, does not suit you.”

“Sleep tight, Peter,” Stiles said, hanging up on the man. He tossed his phone onto the couch and looked around the room, scrubbing a hand over his face. He’d have to do some serious cleaning to get the place looking decent enough before Deucalion came over - and if he tried to get some sleep before that conversation. His phone dinged, distracting him from his thoughts.

Peter had sent him a message composed of three emojis - a middle finger, a kissy face, and a sleeping emoji.

Stiles snorted, amused, and grabbed the bottle of Mountain Dew. He debated taking the last few swigs of it before scowling. Water did actually sound pretty good. And cleaning up would be a decent enough distraction from his inability to focus on the video game.

...

He woke up with a start when he heard someone knocking on the door. A quick glance at his phone told him that it was almost one in the afternoon, and he swore loudly, falling off the couch. He glanced down at himself, glad he’d decided to shower after cleaning up, and had gone for a pair of clean jeans and a decent enough sweatshirt. Even if slightly wrinkled from having fallen asleep on the couch.

Stiles headed to the door, jamming his foot against the leg of the side table next to the couch as he did his best to smooth down the worst of the wrinkles. Swearing again, he glared at the table.

He opened the door to find Ennis grinning down at him, Deucalion standing next to him with a smirk of his own. “You heard all that, didn’t you?”

Ennis just laughed. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Stiles shook his head. “”Not really.” The throbbing in his big toe would subside soon enough.

That pulled another laugh out of the man. “Speaks highly of you,” he said. “You gonna make us wait out on the porch all afternoon? Duke got dressed up special for you.”

Stiles frowned and looked over at the man. His suit didn’t look too much different than the others he wore, and the sunglasses looked the same as well.

“Ignore him,” Deucalion said, though his amusement hadn’t faded. “He suffers from the unfortunate malady of an abysmal sense of humor,” he said. “I’ve forgone the cane today, under the assumption that you might be willing to guide me around your house.”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure thing.” He looked over at Ennis, scratching his cheek absently. “Coffee hasn’t started, but I’ve got it all staged so it should be good like five minutes after I push the button.”

“That mean you’re gonna let me stick around?”

“Long as you’re not planning on folding me like a pretzel?”

Ennis shook his head. “As long as you don’t make any sort of threat against Duke,” he said.

Stiles shrugged. “Not really planning on it.” He paused, looking back over at Deucalion. “Before I let you in, am I breaking any Pack rules or anything by being your seeing eye person? Peter’s told me some of the basic rules, and the whole scent thing seems like a big thing.”

Deucalion nodded, smirk fading. “It is a bit unorthodox, but I have treated you similarly before without overstepping any traditional rules,” he said. “If you would rather, Ennis has been a suitable guide for years.”

“Suitable,” Ennis huffed, rolling his eyes. “Thanks, Alpha. I feel the love.”

Stiles just laughed at the two of them, stepping aside. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and wrapping a hand around Deucalion’s right forearm. “I cleaned up a little bit ago, so there’s not anything scattered around on the floor,” he said.

Ennis watched as Deucalion gently moved Stiles’ hand from his forearm to his shoulder. “Just to make sure, puppy, you’re inviting us inside of your own volition?”

Stiles frowned over at the man. “That’s some kind of official question, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Then yeah,” Stiles said. “You and Alpha Blackwood are both welcome inside. Offer’s made of my own volition,” he said.

“Much appreciated,” Ennis said, stepping inside.

Stiles waited until the taller man was out of their immediate path before pulling Deucalion’s shoulder, leading him inside. “You want the couch or the armchair?” he asked. “Or is this a kitchen conversation?”

“This conversation can happen wherever you are most comfortable,” Deucalion said. “Though I would request the armchair if you’d like to have this conversation in your living room.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, leading the man to the armchair. “You probably want tea, right?”

Deucalion chuckled. “I am hardly so demanding when I am the guest in another man’s house,” he said as he sat in the chair and got comfortable. “Coffee will be more than sufficient.”

Stiles nodded. “Cool. I’m just gonna get that started then,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

“Of course,” he said.

Stiles nodded again and headed into the kitchen.

Ennis had already started the coffee, and had taken a seat at the kitchen table, looking at something on his phone. “You sure you don’t mind me sticking around while you and Duke talk?” he asked, scowling down at his phone before setting it down on the table and looking over at Stiles. “I’m perfectly capable of going somewhere else if you don’t want to have me as an audience.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said. “I mean, it’s not like you’d go far, or that you wouldn’t figure out what happened during the conversation eventually, right?”

Ennis grinned. “Fair points, puppy, but this is all about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the rock star in this show,” he said. “Duke’s here to play some version of twenty questions with you. He’s working on his investigation, and you’re -”

“Being investigated.”

Ennis shrugged. “Something like that, sure,” he said. “If it’s any sort of comfort, I’ve seen this sort of thing go down before, and yours isn’t the worst looking situation I’ve seen.”

That did help, a little bit.

Stiles looked over at the coffee. “I’ll get the cups,” he said, heading over to the cabinet and pulling three mugs out. “You need sugar or anything?”

“I take my coffee black.”

He nodded. As soon as the brewer beeped, he poured a cup for Ennis and handed it to the man before pouring a cup for Deucalion. Peter hadn’t gone into too much detail about this sort of inter-Pack conversation, but he’d been clear that making the guests feel welcome could make the difference between life and death. He took the cup out to the living room, unable to stop his hands from trembling when he caught sight of a familiar red tint from behind the sunglasses. “You want this handed to you or on the table to your right?” he asked.

Deucalion held out his hand. “I am capable of holding a cup of coffee,” he said. “And I appreciate your hospitality.” He paused briefly. “Do you perchance have any sugar?” he asked.

Stiles snorted despite himself. “You know you’re ridiculously British.”

Deucalion laughed quietly - a sentiment echoed by a more boisterous laugh from the kitchen. “I suppose I could make a trite retort about you being the impertinent descendant of a disobedient colony, but I fear that would only further cement your opinion?” he suggested, amusement clear on his face.

He laughed. “I don’t think that counts.”

“Why ever not?”

“Well first off, we’re in California. I suck at history, but I’m pretty sure that was never a British colony.”

“Ah,” Deucalion said, adopting an almost disappointed expression. “How far the empire has fallen.”

Stiles laughed again. “I’ll get the sugar.”

“Much appreciated.”

He nodded and headed back into the kitchen. “You gonna stick around in the living room for the conversation, or are you planning on lurking in the kitchen for the duration?” he asked.

Ennis shrugged, still in his seat. “I’m flexible. Like I said, puppy, you’re the star of this show. I’m happy to be wherever you let me,” he said. “If you were asking my preference, I’d tell you I’d rather keep my Alpha in my sights, but I’m not going to make demands of my host.”

Stiles watched him for a minute before turning back to the coffee, pouring himself a cup and grabbing the bowl of sugar from the counter. “You can come with me. Long as you keep the fangs and claws to a minimum.”

“Kid, as long as you don’t try to threaten my Alpha, I’ll play harmless.”

Stiles snorted. “Sure. Play harmless, Goliath.”

Ennis just laughed and followed Stiles out of the room.

As he set the sugar on the table next to Deucalion, he caught another glimpse of the Alpha’s red eyes and felt a sudden shock of fear settle into his bones again. “Sugar’s on the table,” he said.

Deucalion cocked his head to the side. “Are you well, Stiles?” he asked quietly. “You seem suddenly scared.”

Stiles shrugged, trying to play it off as nonchalant. “I guess it kinda hit me that this is the big talk you came into town for,” he said. “And I’m going to be the subject of the conversation. It’s kind of a serious thing.”

“I wouldn’t think of it quite like that,” Deucalion said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “We’ve spoken before, albeit in more public settings, and you weren’t as nervous in the bookshop.”

“Yeah, but in the bookshop, we just talked about the whole thing with Peter and me,” he said. “The outcome of that conversation wasn’t going to be the death of my dad.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, doing his best to force himself to calm down. “Fuck, I don’t know. I guess the consequences all sunk in about what could go wrong from this conversation.”

Deucalion leaned forward. “Allow me to attempt to assuage your concerns,” he said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Hold back the British bullshit, man,” he said. “I mean, no offense, but the vague, cryptic shit is only making me think of the worst possible things. Can you maybe just shoot straight with me here?”

The Alpha nodded, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into the chest pocket of his suit coat before looking over at Stiles, red eyes watching him steadily. “I am here to determine if your knowledge presents you as a threat. Your entire Pack is under investigation, and I was sent here with the purpose of determining whether you all posed a threat of greater exposure if you are allowed to remain alive,” he said. “I am in the process of formulating my opinion, and you are among the last of the Pack I have to speak with,” he added before pausing, cocking his head to the side. “If it is any consolation, you are not the sole pinnacle of my decision.”

Ennis laughed from where he’d settled - on the floor by the television, looking entirely comfortable to be drinking coffee on the floor. “My Alpha speaks nothing but the truth, puppy,” he said. He held up his right hand. “On my word as a failed boy scout, you’re not the big focus of this whole investigation. The weight lies on the head of your Alpha. You’re a side dish. Maybe a dessert, depending on how highly you think of yourself.”

Stiles hesitated for a moment, unable to not think about Ennis’ advice. “He’s one of the better Alphas I’ve ever met,” he said, willing his heartbeat to stay as steady as possible as he spoke. It wasn’t really a lie, either - Derek hadn’t run around in a craze, biting whoever first crossed his path, even if he didn’t really inspire a whole lot of faith from Stiles.

“Fair enough,” Ennis said, though the look on his face told Stiles he didn’t believe him - no doubt thinking back to their conversation in Walmart earlier that morning. “Though from what I’ve heard, you haven’t exactly had the best impression of werewolves,” he added.

“I mean, Derek’s not anything like a Deucalion, but I think with time that he’ll probably be able to come close. Maybe.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you this, but Peter was an Alpha for like ten minutes, and he sucked at it.”

Deucalion hummed. “I am familiar with Peter’s actions, and he’s already vouched for the young Mister McCall,” he said. “Peter was very forthcoming about his time as Alpha.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asked.

“Yes. If he had retained that position, I doubt very much I would be here. Peter has always been the sort to put his Pack above all else, including his own well-being.”

Stiles frowned slightly but didn’t say anything.

“My purpose here, Stiles, is to speak with you. I’m still in the process of formulating my recommendation for the Council, and your input will be incredibly helpful in that regard.”

“How so?” Stiles asked, dropping onto the couch.

Deucalion looked over at him. “I’ve spoken with your Alpha, with his turned Betas, and with Peter already. As is custom, you are the only human member of the Pack, and as such, you are likely the last person to be involved in the investigation.”

Stiles scowled. “How come?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

The Alpha smiled slightly. “As a general rule, tradition tends to observe that humans are the last ones spoken to. Part of that is due to the relatively traditional belief that they are not as highly involved in the inner workings of the Pack,” he said. “However, I abstained because Peter is dear to me. And you have become rather dear to me as well, given your connection to my former pet. I hadn’t wanted to interrupt your relationship while it was still in its early stages.”

“That matters?”

“To me, yes,” he said. “As it stands, I suppose I’ve formulated most of my recommendation.”

“Making me the linchpin here?”

“Stiles, you are a linchpin among your Pack. You have a connection to not only Peter, but to your Alpha, and to all of his Betas. Each of them has acknowledged that, without any sort of pressure from myself,” he said. “And while I could pepper you with the sort of questions that would leave you feeling unbalanced and perhaps questioning your position in your Pack, I’ve only got two questions for you this afternoon.”

Stiles hesitated for a long moment, not entirely sure what sort of questions to expect. Finally, after a long moment of silence, he nodded. “Alright. Shoot.”

“Do you trust your Alpha?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked. “He’s saved my life a bunch of times, and I’ve returned the favor, but-”

“Stiles, I have spoken with you a number of times before now. I would like to think there is a measure of mutual trust between us, however minuscule. If you and the rest of your Pack were to receive a positive recommendation, are you able to say, with complete confidence, that you trust your Alpha in his ability to lead the Pack and keep you and the rest of your Pack safe should you stay with your Pack, with him as Alpha?” he asked.

That question shocked Stiles silent. He grabbed his coffee, nursing it for a long moment. “I don’t know the right answer to that.”

“There is no right or wrong answer,” Deucalion said. “I am merely asking your opinion.”

Stiles was silent for another long moment. “I think so,” he said, hating himself a little bit for the way his voice wavered as he spoke. “I mean, a year ago, I wouldn’t have been able to even think about the concept of werewolves without also thinking I’m crazy. But shit happens,” he said.

“And it tends to trickle downhill,” Ennis muttered darkly.

“Ennis,” Deucalion said sharply. “If you think it appropriate to interrupt a conversation to which you have only been invited as an observer, you can wait your time in the car. I am here to speak with Stiles, not to hear your input this afternoon.”

He grumbled unhappily but fell silent.

Deucalion tilted his head, looking over at Stiles with a sight he shouldn’t have. “Do you trust your Alpha enough to honestly claim him as such? Without hesitation, and without your faith in him wavering?”

Stiles shook his head. “That’s not how my brain works, dude,” he said. “Sure, Derek’s my Alpha. He’s proven before that he wants me alive more than he’s willing to let me die, and he’ s not the worst Alpha I’ve ever met, I guess. I mean, he is kind of a dick, and he wouldn’t exactly know what a conversation was if it hit him upside the head and started talking at him, but he’s a decent enough dude.”

Deucalion offered him an indulgent smile. “That doesn’t quite answer my question, pet.”

He bristled at being called ‘pet’ by someone other than Peter, but did his best to shove that feeling aside. “I don’t know how to give you the sort of answer you’re looking for, then,” he said. “I don’t go into anything without a healthy dose of hesitation, no matter the circumstances. Derek’s a dickhead six days out of seven, but he’s the best option around, so, sure, I’ll claim him as my Alpha.”

That elicited contemplative looks from both Deucalion and Ennis.

“Would you submit to him?” Deucalion asked. “Let him turn you?”

Stiles snorted, unable to stop himself. “I don’t want to be a werewolf,” he said. “And Derek and I butt heads way too much for me to submit to him with any sort of genuine sentiment.” He narrowed his eyes at Deucalion. “Look, we’ve worked together before, and he seems to respect me enough to listen when shit hits the fan, for the most part, but I’m not the sort of person who’s willing to bend my knee and bare my throat to anyone any time soon. He hasn’t objected to that so far.”

Deucalion hummed, an intrigued look on his face. “Is that so?” he asked. He paused for another moment before asking his next question. “Would you accept his throat, were he to offer it?”

“The hell are you talking about?”

He shrugged. “Mere curiosity at this point. But if Derek were to come to you, bare his throat, and acknowledge you as Alpha, would you accept him?”

That struck Stiles silent for a solid three minutes. “Werewolves need Pack to survive, don’t they? I mean, if the world got turned on its axis and Derek actually respected me, I’m not gonna just let him wander off and go omega. Even if it would probably be the easier option, all things considered.”

Deucalion was silent at that.

Stiles watched him, not entirely sure if that was the sort of answer the wolf had been looking for.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Are you prepared for my second question?”

Stiles shrugged one shoulder in an attempt to appear casual. He grabbed his coffee and took a long swig, wincing at the heat. “Sure, I guess,” he said.

“Do you believe your Pack has posed the sort of threat that puts the large supernatural community at risk of exposure to humans?” he asked.

Stiles flinched. “Any chance I could trade that question in for an easy one, like what’s my favorite flavor milkshake?” he asked.

Deucalion shook his head. “Unfortunately not,” he said. “Of course, if you’d like to delay answering that, I am certainly happy to oblige you in any other curiosities you may have.”

“No,” he said quietly. “I guess it’s better to rip off the bandaid,” he said. “And you want my honesty?”

“It would be appreciated, yes,” Deucalion commented absently.

He nodded, thinking about everything that happened since he’d become aware of werewolves as more than just fairy tales. “At first, yeah. I think we were that sort of threat. If Peter had been more unhinged and had gone after anyone who even hinted of hunter, we would have been exposed before he’d gotten Kate under his claws,” he said. “And I understand why he did it.” Stiles scowled slightly. “This is just between us.”

Deucalion hummed, inclining his head just enough for Stiles to notice the gesture. “It can be.”

“It needs to be.”

“Then it shall be,” Deucalion said.

Stiles nodded. “Great,” he said. “So Peter woke up from his coma, and he went after all the people responsible for the fire in the first place, which, if I’m completely honest, is something I can understand. If there was someone who’d been responsible for my mom’s diagnosis and, um, everything that happened after that, I’d be inclined to act the same way.” He scrubbed a hand over his head. “Hell, I was the one who was ultimately responsible for her death, so I can probably understand better than most humans why he did what he did - even killing Laura.”

“Is that so?” Ennis asked quietly.

“That’s not even close to relevant to this investigation, so I’m not talking about it any more,” he said. “But in the beginning, if Peter had been more out of control than he was, I’d say yeah, we were at risk of exposure,” he said. “But Derek’s been marginally better.”

“How so?” Deucalion asked, prompting Stiles to keep talking.

“He’s kept the bullshit more isolated, I guess,” he said. “I mean, Erica and Isaac had some noticeable changes going on, but if they’re given the chance to adjust, really adjust, without being shot full of arrows or tortured by the neighborhood hunting family, I think they could be pretty okay,” he said. He sighed heavily. “If you looked at everything on paper, starting from the Hale fire, then sure, there’s a pretty solid risk of exposure there. But it all started with the hunters, right? And they’ve gotten what was coming to them, for the most part, so. Shit, I don’t know, man. People were willing to buy the mountain lion excuse when it was Peter skulking around and killing a bunch of people who were accessories to murder,” he said. “And my dad believed me when I told him it was a rival lacrosse team that beat the shit out of me, not that the patriarch of the local hunting party took a cane to my ribs, so it seems like the humans around here are willing to let a lot of otherwise suspicious shit slide.”

Deucalion’s eyes narrowed. “You were brutalized by the hands of hunters?”

Stiles shrugged again. “Gerard wanted me to pass on a bullshit kind of message, and he had Erica and Boyd hooked up to electric fencing and a car battery,” he said, not quite meeting the Alpha’s eyes. “If anything, I think we’ve earned some leniency. It’s pretty impossible to set up a stable Pack when there are hunters literally kidnapping minors to beat the shit out of them,” he said.

Deucalion nodded, an odd expression coming over his face. “This hunting family. It was the Argents, yes?”

Stiles nodded.

“And was Gerard Argent the patriarch you speak of?”

“Until Peter ripped his head off,” Stiles said. “Literally, as he told me. Why?”

Deucalion gestured at his face. “That man is responsible for my affliction,” he said. “Grenades spiked with wolfsbane can have several debilitating effects. Permanent blindness in a wolf otherwise able to heal any wound being one of them,” he said. “I was unaware he’d lived long enough to injure you as well.”

He hesitated, looking over at Ennis. “I’ve healed from the shit he pulled on me. Nothing too permanent, though I did get a few scars from the trip to the Argent basement,” he said. “And Chris hasn’t bothered me that much since then, either.”

Deucalion let out a low rumble, the sound of an unhappy werewolf. “None of the others mentioned this to me during my conversations with them,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well, who really wants to relive torture?” he asked scrubbing a hand over his head again.

“No, I was speaking more to your treatment at the hands of the hunters. It’s one thing for hunters to go after wolves - loathe as I am to admit, they see that as their sole true purpose in the world, so those actions make sense. But for them to specifically target human members of a Pack? That information does change things a bit,” the Alpha said quietly. “It will have to be shared with the Council,” he said.

“Does your Pack know?” Ennis asked, curiosity blatant.

Stiles shrugged. “Peter knows. He saw the immediate aftermath of what happened after I got out of the basement,” he said. “And then he took me out to dinner to ask for the details.” He scrubbed a hand over his head, glancing at Deucalion out of the corner of his eyes. “He called me pet a few times at dinner.”

“And the rest of your Pack?” Ennis prompted.

“Erica and Boyd were there in the basement while I was,” he said. He paused, frowning to himself. “I guess Derek might have seen the bruises during the whole final showdown with Gerard,” he said, making sure not to mention Lydia or Jackson. Deucalion hadn’t asked about either of them, so he had no intention of being the one to bring that to their attention.

“With the Kanima, yes?”

Oh, well. There went that hope. “Yeah, but-”

“I am aware that Jackson Whittemore is now a werewolf. He’s been relocated to London.”

Stiles snorted beside himself. “Seriously?”

The older man cocked his head to the side. “I’m not quite sure I follow?”

Stiles laughed. “He’s not backpacking through Yorkshire, is he?” he asked, grinning.

Ennis burst out laughing. “He’s in a private boarding school,” he said with a wide grin. He looked over at Deucalion. “Your refusal to watch movies about werewolves has, once again, bit you in the ass, Alpha,” he said.

Deucalion growled lowly. “I have no interest in watching the inevitable demise of whatever abominable depiction the humans have concocted of my species,” he said. “That you lack taste is no fault of mine.”

Ennis just kept cackling. He looked over at Stiles. “You should visit over the summer sometime,” he said. “We’ve got the compound rigged up so there’s an outdoor theater, and on the weekends, we get as many of the Pack as we can to join us for a movie night. If me or Kali are in charge of picking the movie, almost a guarantee that it’s going to be a werewolf flick.”

“Kali?” Stiles asked.

“The platonic love of my life,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “She’s gorgeous, and smart, and -”

“Extremely unavailable,” Deucalion said with a smirk. He turned his head toward Stiles. “Kali is a Alpha with territory neighboring mine, and a devoted wife in her Emissary. We’ve made some efforts to establish more than a basic nonaggression pact, which has evolved into somewhat regular interactions between our Packs. Movie night being the unfortunate favorite.”

Stiles grinned. “You have to attend it, though, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t be good optics for the Alpha to bow out of something like that,” Ennis said, nodding. Not even bothering to hide his amusement. “And Kali knows it.”

“So then what are your sorts of movies?”

“Pre-Code Hollywood black and whites,” he said. “Unfortunately, there aren’t many well preserved, so I don’t get to watch them as often as I would prefer.”

Stiles cocked his head to the side, thinking about it for a moment. He supposed that made sense, though his first guess would have been James Bond for the man, for some reason.

Deucalion sighed. “We have gotten a bit off track,” he said.

Ennis sobered a bit, no longer laughing, but still smiling.

“What measures has your Pack taken to keep you safe?”

Stiles shrugged. “Peter’s been starting to teach me runes and protective magic,” he said. “It’s not a whole lot right now, but he figures that since I can manipulate mountain ash without training, it’s just going to take a bit before I can handle the more intense stuff like Emissary warding.”

“And your Alpha?”

Stiles wasn’t quite sure how to answer that honestly, so he settled for silence. He caught a glimpse of Ennis’s expression hardening at his reaction, but ducked his head to look down at the coffee table.

“Has he been informed of your treatment at the hands of the hunters?”

Stiles shrugged again. “I don’t know if Peter’s told him, but I haven’t. Me and Derek don’t really socialize,” he said. “Unless there’s something dangerous happening, and then it’s one of us saving the other, but otherwise I don’t actually see him that often.”

Deucalion hummed. “How much do you truly trust Derek, Stiles?”

“Enough to know that he’s willing to pull my ass out of the line of fire, and enough to do the same for him,” Stiles said, voice sharp. “I’m not gonna lie and say he’s the best Alpha he could ever be, but I’m also not going to shove him under the bus for you to drive over him. He’s the best Alpha for Beacon Hills right now.”

“And will you stay with him? In his Pack?”

“Sure,” Stiles said, holding back another shrug. “Until he does something too stupid to forgive. I’m not really interested in Alpha-shopping any time soon. No offense, if that was what you were trying to do.”

Deucalion chuckled at that. “It wasn’t my sole intention, but you are rather astute for being so new to our world,” he said. “Your loyalty to your young Alpha is certainly commendable. And rather unique, compared to his Betas.”

He frowned slightly, leaning forward on the couch. Curiosity was getting the better of him. “What do you mean?”

“Erica and Vernon both left Derek, did they not? Else how would they have fallen into the hands of the Argents?” he asked. “Running from an Alpha, one’s Sire, nonetheless, is about the most concrete way to declare a lack of trust in them. It will be interesting to see the ramifications of those actions in the future,” he said, and Stiles perked up a bit at that hint of almost-not-sealed fate. “And Isaac seems rather despondent. I was unaware he and your friend McCall were close.”

Stiles huffed but didn’t say anything.

Deucalion was silent for another few moments, drinking his coffee.

Stiles did his best to occupy his mind by gulping down his coffee, and then doing his best not to be too obvious about having swallowed coffee that was still entirely too hot.

The amused look Ennis shot his way told him he hadn’t been entirely successful on that front. He opened his mouth to say something, but his phone buzzed, catching his attention.

Finally, after several minutes of silence, Deucalion nodded rather definitively. “I believe that’s all the information I need from you this afternoon, Stiles,” he said. “I appreciate your cooperation.”

Stiles nodded hesitantly. “Not like I had a whole lot of choice about it, but sure.”

“Regardless, I am happy to have met you,” he said. “Might I trouble you for another cup of coffee?”

He shrugged. “Can I trade it for an idea of what your recommendation’s going to be?”

“That would be highly improper of me, Stiles,” Deucalion said with a smirk. “Though I applaud the attempt.”

“Worth a shot,” he said, setting his own cup down and walking over to take Deucalion’s. As he headed into the kitchen, he wasn’t entirely surprised that Ennis followed him. “You need a refill too?”

He shook his head. “I’m a one cup limit,” he said. “You _can_ help me with this game, though,” he said, dangling his phone between his index finger and thumb. “You look like the type to be ruthless at Scrabble.”

“Scrabble?”

“Words with Friends, whatever. If Jennifer wins, she’s going to be the biggest pain in my ass the next time she sees me,” he said. “Want to give a friendly old wolf a hand? I’ll take Duke his coffee while you figure out a good enough word for me.”

Stiles snorted. “You’re not subtle.”

“Sure I am,” he said, wiggling his phone again and taking the coffee mug out of Stiles’s hand. “I didn’t even lock you in the hall closet so me and Duke could talk. I’m _incredibly_ subtle.”

“Uh huh. And how long should I take to think of a word?”

“Not too long. Five minutes, maybe six,” he said. “Once I leave the kitchen, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Stiles said, nodding. Still, unable to hold back his smirk, he took the phone. “Awful lot of trust you’re putting in me to not deliberately tank your game.”

Ennis laughed, pouring the coffee. “Jennifer’s hyper-competitive, and she’s not used to losing. You win on her and, depending on your final score, I’m happy to put in a good word for you. She’s one of the best Emissaries I’ve met, and she’s not unwilling to take on an apprentice.”

Stiles watched the man for a moment, trying to parse out a deeper meaning to that.

Ennis just saluted him, taking the coffee and disappearing back into the living room.

The teenager debated listening in, but then, if he was caught, he wouldn’t be winning any favors. Deucalion had been decent so far; he didn’t see any real use in deliberately pissing off this Alpha and risk having him decide that that was it for them. Besides, the possibility of wrangling a mentor Emissary out of a round of Words with Friends was just a little bit _too_ tempting to pass up.


End file.
